Adventures in Car Collecting
by tradermare
Summary: Barrons takes Mac on a little adventure to find an ancient artifact. Takes place after Shadowfever. High probability for spoilers from all books of the Fever Series.
1. Chapter 1

The characters belong to Karen Marie Moning.

This fic takes place after Shadowfever. There is a high probability there will be spoilers for the books in the Fever Series.

Thanks to the darling BonTempsCutie for all she does to help make my writing better. She's written awesome Fever Fics! Check out her Ryodan / Jo fic, Not Your Average Jo

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**Adventures in Car Collecting**

**Chapter One**

Fifteen minutes until closing time and a pleasant flutter of anticipation tickled me. Barrons would be here any moment and naughty images of what I wanted to do with him later popped into my head. But first, we were going out, he said, with a directive to be ready to go when he arrived. We might bare our bodies and sometimes our souls to each other, but he didn't give me details about our little excursions. All I got from him was that we had "something" to do and "somewhere" to go.

As long as he was with me, I didn't mind being kept in the dark. The "not knowing" enhanced the thrill of our little outings in ways that paid off for him later in bed, and so what if he withheld information on purpose? It had become a little game with us and I trusted he would protect me, just as much as I would protect myself. Whatever he had in mind for later, I'd learn something about Dublin or the Fae or some other part of this I had never heard before. I couldn't get enough of all he knew about such things. I was still his OOP detector, albeit a smarter one, and the only thing that had changed was that I was sleeping with the OOP director. A little moan formed deep in my throat thinking about what "slept" had meant the last time Barrons and I spent the night together.

I started my closing routine, walking around the perimeter, checking windows, doors, and the general condition of things until I made my way back to the entrance. A flash of chrome and gleaming dark metal outside caught my eye. It was amazing. Sleek. Black. Curvaceous. I moved closer to the door for a better look.

Only one car had those kinds of curves. A Jaguar XKSS. It's "hug the road" design made it look like a big black cat stretched out on the pavement, frozen mid-stride, running fast and hard. Barrons. It had to be his, but I hadn't seen this one before. Holy fudge-buckets, what else did he have in his car collection?

Sure enough, a crackle of energy signaled his arrival. He melted out of the shadows, pushing his way inside as if he still owned the place. I might have the title, but he was connected to the bookstore, as much as he was connected to me.

Barrons wasn't dressed in his usual expensive, tailored suit. Oh no. His long black leather coat covered a tight, black t-shirt. I could see his skin beneath the weave of the fabric, the material hugging the arms that held me every night. He stepped in front of me and blocked my view of the Jag. Just to tease him I looked around his perfect body to the car on the street.

"See something you like, Ms. Lane?" he said, the tiny crinkle of his eyes betraying his intent. He was teasing me right back. Heat flared in all the right places. A playful Barrons had the power to melt me.

From his attire, this was to be a stealth mission. No wonder he told me to be ready; if we stayed here much longer, I'd be dragging him to my bedroom upstairs, or his office or any number of other places around the bookstore we hadn't christened yet.

He didn't kiss me. Instead, he orbited around me, assessing me in his own special way. His nostrils flared as he sampled the air, no doubt sensing my excitement over the Jag or maybe it was him. Did it matter? Barrons probably had a hard-on for the car too. I resisted the urge to look.

Instead, I looked back outside. "Is that what I think it is?"

"You like?" He was suddenly behind me, the brush of his lips at my ear the only contact between us.

I leaned back into him and his arms curled around me. "Are you kidding me? There are only sixteen of those in existence. You _are _going to let me drive it, aren't you?" I turned around to look at him.

He gave me a stunning smile and I felt my knees go a little weak. Definitely playful Barrons. I felt that flutter of excitement again. He turned me around in his arms and looked me over, even checked out my shoes. For a minute, I thought he was going to tell me to go upstairs and change, like the old days. I wore black skinny jeans with a strawberry pink ballet top that showed off my cleavage. His gaze lingered on my breasts before he lifted his head and I saw the heat in his eyes. Images of us in his bedroom flooded my mind.

His eyes watched the rise and fall of my chest, before he stepped a little closer. "That could be arranged, you know."

My smile challenged him to follow up on that idea. He always knew what I was thinking.

"Feel free to try to convince me," he purred in my ear. "Are you are worthy of driving such a fine machine?"

"I know how to drive, Barrons. Let me grab my purse." I brushed my fingertips across his face and turned my flirtation up a notch, hinting at what he might be worthy of if he let me drive.

"Leave it. Just your cell."

I gave him a sideways look. So this wasn't just playtime. "Ok. Are you going to tell me where we're going? And please tell me we're going in that car."

"I thought we'd take a drive. In that car."

"Just a drive, Barrons?." I said, not believing it for a minute.

His smirk told me I was right. There was more to this outing than a drive. Typical Barrons.

"You'll need a coat. The long one."

He wasn't going to tell me where we were going, at least not right away. I didn't mind his little games, because he liked watching me put the pieces of his latest scheme together. He still played Professor Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle in his own Barrons-like way, especially when it came to the Fae. The only difference now was that I didn't fight him about it—there were still things he could teach me, things I wanted and needed to know.

I grabbed my coat and shoved my cell phone in the pocket. Barrons slipped his arm around my waist as he guided us to the door, scanning the neighborhood as I locked up. I ignored his snort as I pulled away and ran across the street. I couldn't wait to see that car up close and personal. I needed to touch it. All over. From the side, the car was all deep, sleek curves, like a woman's body, with its front fenders, rounded and full, narrowing to the seating compartment, and then rising at the rear in another luscious curve. Even though it was parked, its profile rippled as if its namesake had been trapped inside the brilliant black metal, seductive and strong. All grace and power wrapped into one.

Barrons was incredibly patient as I traced my hands over every contour of the car, admiring its design and flawless execution. There wasn't a mark on it. I was starting my second pass when Barrons interrupted my adoration of the thing of beauty in front of me.

"No need to get carried away, Ms. Lane, it's merely an automobile."

I couldn't help but laugh. He actually sounded jealous. Of the car.

"Barrons, you can't bring a car like this to me and not expect me to fondle it."

He stood at the passenger door, holding it open while I hoped I managed to look somewhat graceful sliding into the seat. It wasn't easy. The seats were low and close to the ground, in an interior that could only be called intimate. It explained the wolf smile he gave me as he waited for me to tuck my coat inside.

He slipped into the driver's seat as if it was made just for his body, despite the lack of space. I held my breath as he turned the key. The 3.4-liter, double-overhead-cam inline six-cylinder engine, with a six-pack of side-draft Weber carburetors roared to life, sounding just like the racing motor it was designed to be. With a quick glance, Barrons pulled away from the curb and into the night, the sleek beast of a car accelerating swiftly as he followed the roads out of Dublin. He still hadn't told me where we were going, and we didn't talk for a long while. He knew I'd want to listen to the engine, tuning into the subtle sounds of the car as it shifted through its gears, learning its nuances in the hope he would be letting me drive it later.

It was a perfect night for a drive. For once, it wasn't raining, and the full moon lit the countryside helping us avoid the occasional fairy pothole. We left the highway miles back, and Barrons handled the car expertly, hugging the country roads at just the right speed to keep it interesting. And he knew exactly where we were going. Wisps of hot exhaust flavored the cold crisp air.

About ninety minutes outside of Dublin, I noticed that the grass had become green again. The Shades had left this area alone, the countryside untouched by their gluttony. I opened the car window, and filled my lungs with the smell of the rich soil and green grass.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful Ireland can be. But you didn't bring me out here to smell the grass, did you, Jericho? What are we doing out here?"

"You'll see. Relax. We're only halfway there."

After another hour, Barrons pulled the car into a small garage in a coastal town called Kilrush. I knew from studying maps that it was at the mouth of the River Shannon, in the south-west of County Clare. No wonder it had taken almost three hours to get here. He parked the car and we took a quick walk to a nearby pier, where a small ferry boat waited.

He put his hands on my waist and lifted me onto the boat before he climbed aboard. After a a few quiet words to the captain, he took me to the bow and we looked out over the water as the boat left the pier into the dark river water.

"There."

He pointed to what might be an island some distance away. I couldn't tell.

"We're going there? Why?"

"We're looking for something."

"Well, I did figure that part out on my own. Are you going to give me the details?"

The clouds uncovered the moon, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of his hair blowing in the wind, a smile on his face as the boat raced forward. Playful Barrons. What was he up to?

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Barrons _is_ up to something! Where are they going and what are they looking for? More details in the next chapter! Thanks for reading and commenting!


	2. Chapter 2

The characters belong to Karen Marie Moning.

Chapter Two

The motor sputtered and whined as the boat cut through the water toward the island. I watched Barrons at the bow, his strong body impervious to the pitch and roll of the water. In spite of the wind, looking at him made me feel warm, and I shifted on my feet as I remembered his sleek, hard body naked and flexed over mine. Only now that hard body focused on the shoreline. Playful Barrons wasn't so playful anymore.

When the clouds cleared and uncovered the moon, I got a better view of our destination. Calling it an island was a stretch—it was more like a rock rising from the water. An old tower projected up into the dark night and narrow walkways connected the different sites of building remains near the pier. At the far end of the island, an abandoned lighthouse and some other structures I couldn't identify dotted the horizon. There were no houses or inhabitants. No lights. Nothing but the pier in front of us.

When the captain cut the engine and drifted into the pier, Barrons leapt onto the pier, dragging a rope to tether the boat. Once secured, he came back for me, pulling me up from the boat to stand next to him. I smiled when he let his arm linger at my waist. Wind cut through my coat and clothes, chilling my skin but Barrons blocked some of it as we walked up the short access ramp to the rubble that seemed to be some sort of road around the island.

I tossed my head toward the boat. "He's not going to leave us here, is he?"

"No, he'll wait."

Barrons would probably mutter some spell over that boat captain so he wouldn't remember a thing. I'd seen how he worked. I wasn't really worried about getting left here, but at the same time I wasn't looking forward to spending a cold night here either, even if it was with Jericho. Everything at this end of the island was nothing but rubble and open sky. He'd obviously taken great care to set up this little adventure, so I decided to play along with it.

"So what are we doing here, Barrons?" I asked, following behind him down a path leading south of the quay and away from the massive tower. "What is this place?"

"This desolate rock in the middle of the river Shannon is Scattery Island, Miss Lane, a former monastic settlement founded in the six century by St. Senan."

"Well, that would explain all these churches, or at least what remains of them. It doesn't look like there's much here after all these years. Does anyone actually live here?"

"Scattery has been uninhabited since the seventies."

"Okay, so what do you expect to find on this rock, Barrons? Because I'm guessing you didn't bring me to this place for romance."

He snorted. "You don't find it romantic, Miss Lane? Just the two of us? Would it be more romantic if I saved you from the legendary Cathach, the beast that roamed this island before St. Senan drove him out and established the monastic settlement?"

His smile was all teeth.

"Beast?" I snorted right back at him.

"That was before the Vikings came, then the Spaniards, and who knows who else set foot on Scattery in their quest to other places. There have been rumors that the Knights Templar stopped here on their way back from the Crusades."

Now that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and thanks to the dissipating cloud cover, the moon lit the landscape enough to see around me. Ruins that looked like piles of rock dotted the island, some large, some small. How anyone _ever_ lived here was beyond me. "Well, thanks for the history lesson, but you still haven't told me what we're looking for. We _are_ looking for something, aren't we?"

"Yes." The wind caught the tail end of his one word answer, the sound hissing on the air. "We are looking for something, Miss Lane."

"And?" I didn't understand his hesitation to tell me what we were looking for. He usually enjoyed giving me a historical litany of details, complete with just the right amount of how-could-you-not-know—unless he had a reason to withhold information. "Is that all you're going to tell me?"

"That's all I'll say—for now." He kept walking toward the largest pile of rubble right down from the pier. It looked like it could have been a church at one point, but now it was just a roofless stone box next to a graveyard. I slowed and took my time walking around, trying to tune into something like some human divining rod. Barrons stood off to the side, watching me, waiting for some sort of reaction, just like the time he stuck the photocopied pages from the book in my face. Unlike that experience, I didn't feel a thing. Maybe that was why I was a bit testy when I asked him again.

"Why all the drama and secrecy, Barrons? I'm not moving another inch until you cough up more details."

"OOP detecting, Miss Lane. Do you ever wonder if your abilities extend beyond detecting Fae objects? That you might be able to detect relics from other folklore?" He cocked an eyebrow and put on his playful smile, but even in the dark I could sense there was more to this than just seeing if I could still detect objects of power. I'd figure out his agenda eventually.

"I guess I haven't given it much thought since we captured the book." When we'd chased the Sinsar Dubh, I had assumed that my talents were limited to Fae objects, since OOP detection seemed to be part of my sidhe-seer abilities. But what if my special skills were tied to that part of the Unseelie King I had inside of me? What _else_ might I be able to detect? Did I even want to know? Stupid question. Of course, I did. I wasn't afraid of knowing what I could do, but what would the ability to detect other relics mean to all of us trying to put Dublin back together?

I hadn't used my OOP detecting talents in a while, and in the past I had some idea of what we were looking for. I'd built up my tolerance and my stomach didn't get queasy around Fae objects anymore. Back in those days, he'd never tell me details about the objects he collected and the others we looked for, at least not right away. I think he enjoyed making me figure them out on my own. I wanted to kick Barrons' petunia for it too, but I was learning some valuable interrogation techniques in the process.

"Do you think you still have it in you, Miss Lane?"

"Of course I still have it in me," I smirked. At least I thought so, and if I had any doubts, I wasn't about to share them with him, especially since he wouldn't tell me what we were looking for. "Are you going to tell me what I'm looking for, or do I have to guess? And I'm not feeling anything here. Absolutely nothing."

"We're looking for an artifact."

"An artifact? Or an OOP?" I looked around the island. "I hope you have some idea where to look, because finding anything on this pile of rock would make finding a needle in a haystack look easy. How many OOPs are there anyway?"

He shrugged. "Who's to say how many there are—how many swords and spears or stones? It's almost certain there are other sacred relics. We know of a few of them already. The flask containing the queen's immortality potion, for one, and the orb. Odds are there are some we don't even know about. If you don't feel up to this, Miss Lane, we can return to Dublin."

He knew how to motivate me. Suggest that I couldn't do something, and my stubbornness kicked in. Wave the red flag at me, dare me to find it and I would jump right in with both feet. I knew his game. "Uh huh. You mean work for you, don't you? You haven't mentioned any compensation. My services don't come for free, Barrons." I teased, stepping closer.

"Miss Lane," he purred, "If you find what is said to be hidden here, you can name your price."

"Really? Even the 57 Jaguar?"

He didn't even flinch when I said it.

He flashed a smile again. "Yes, even the 57 Jaguar."

Well, that put a spring back into my step. How tough could this be? We'd walk around and see if I felt anything, and if not, we'd be done. But if I _could_ find whatever might be hidden out here and keep Jericho to his word, the prospect of starting my own car collection filled me with joy.

That was a lot of "ifs."

He had been standing by the walls of the rundown church and then he was right in front of me, having moved in that fluid way he had. His strong hands held my arms and I felt the electric charge that was all Jericho Barrons snapping in the cold air. It wrapped around me and drew my body toward his.

"Indulge me," he said, his voice silky smooth, and when he made that guttural sound I knew from the bedroom, how could I say no? Just hearing it made me warm and wet with the promise of what we'd be doing once we got off this rock. "Let's walk." We started walking uphill toward the tower and the remains beside it. More rock and rubble.

"Okay, but I need pertinent details, Barrons. How about we play twenty questions?"

"I'll _cooperate_ with that, Miss Lane. You start."

His emphasis on the word cooperate wasn't lost on me. I planned on cooperating too, much later when we were back in his bedroom, and that made me think of my first question. "Why are you calling me Miss Lane? I thought we were past that."

"Habit. Next question," he smirked.

"What does the artifact _do_? What's its power? Why do you want it?"

"That was three questions. Aren't you supposed to ask them one at a time? And I don't think I will answer any of those, _Miss_ _Lane_, so try again."

I rolled my eyes. I should have known better than to start with something so specific. He liked me to figure things out on my own. This was Jericho Barrons' idea of mentoring. "Let's go with something easier then. Size? Shape? Composition?"

"It's likely the size of a coin or a medallion. Gold, probably, or it could be onyx or obsidian or incorporate it in some way. I don't know for sure. It may have some inscription relating to the number seven. Seven sides, seven words, seven symbols. Or the number three. Ryodan has a picture, but he only let me see it once."

I let the Ryodan reference slide by. Too direct, and that approach hadn't worked so far. "Seven. Is that why we're here on Saturday?"

"Yes. Very astute, Mac."

A sudden rush of heat settled in my cheeks and other places. Was I actually beaming at his praise? His approval had made me flush. If he kept this up, I might not be able to wait until we got back to his bedroom. The sooner I showed him what I could detect, the quicker we'd be heading to that bedroom.

"How long do you think it's been out here? What could it be in that wouldn't have deteriorated already? Or have been found?"

"Good questions, none of which I can answer. I don't know."

We reached the crest of the hill and walked around the ruins of the church that was next to the tower.

"So it isn't Fae?"

He hesitated. "It's documented as Hebrew, but I'm not convinced that's entirely correct."

"And you think the Templars hid it here."

"Yes. And that's fourteen of your twenty, by the way. Quit wasting time on questions you already have the answers to. Focus."

"Well, you're not answering the important ones."

"No, I'm not. I don't want to influence you. I may have said too much already."

We left the ruins of the second church and walked about seventy-five feet to the round tower. It was huge, reaching up over one hundred feet in the air and fifty feet around at the base. I ran my fingers across the stones as I circled the structure, pausing to put my fingers in the chinks and cracks between the stones. Still nothing but cool rock. No stomach upset, no twinges of intuition or memory. Nothing sparked inside me, besides the need to get back to the boat and back to Dublin.

Barrons waited for me while I completed my first turn around the tower. If he was disappointed, he didn't show it. He reached over and pulled me into his arms, his hands snaking inside my coat and around my body. He moved his body until we fit together just right and all I felt was him. His lips were warm when he kissed me long and leisurely, taking his time to explore. My body curved toward his.

"Hey, that's no fair," I whispered at him. "You're distracting me."

"I thought you could use a little encouragement. One more place to look and then we're out of here."

"But I haven't felt anything. I'm sorry, Jericho."

He shrugged and shook his head. "It was a long shot, Mac. I've been over this place from top to bottom many times and haven't found it. Maybe it's not here. We've already checked two of the most likely places." Another kiss, only a little taste made for teasing and seducing. He wanted to check one more place, and that I could give him, even though there were more pleasant things running through my mind.

"Okay. Lead the way to the next site."

He still hadn't let me go. He rubbed his body against mine, just as hot for me as I was for him. If only we weren't on a pile of rock. Some things just killed the mood, although I was sure he'd be able to find us a reasonably comfortable position if I gave him the green light. But I rather get this over with and head back to Dublin. I'd have plenty of time to plan the rest of our evening during the three hour drive back.

"We can always come back. If it's here, it isn't going anywhere." His lips brushed across mine one more time before he pushed away from the wall, freeing me from beneath his body. He took my arm and directed me toward a smaller, less traveled path leading north.

"So, this amulet wards against—?" I leaned forward and made a come-on gesture with my hand, hoping he would answer.

"Nice try. Not going to tell you that…yet. And who said it was an amulet?"

"Amulet, OOP, artifact—what's the difference? Why do you it's here?"

"Ryodan has traced a ship returning from the crusades that stopped here. The ship's manifest listed the Kafziel talisman as part of the treasures on board. Scattery Island would have been a place for a damaged vessel to stop for repairs, before moving up the coast. "

"That's it? That's all you have?"

"The talisman doesn't appear anywhere after that. We've done our research, Miss Lane. All of the trails ended here."

"What did you call it?"

"The Kafziel talisman."

The name wasn't familiar to me, and I knew if I pressed him, he wasn't going to answer, so I changed my line of questioning. "What if it's buried under the ground? I don't know if I would sense it then, at least I don't think so." I looked around at the stones at my feet. "And I'm drawing the line at grave digging, Barrons. Don't even go there."

"No grave digging, I promise."

We walked away from the second church to the next small group of ruins. They looked much like the last ones. Walls and no roofs. Empty rectangles of stone. I still didn't see how we could find anything hidden here hundreds of years ago. It was like trying to tune into a radio station when you didn't even know if there was one in the area. But I wanted to find this for him.

"What do you call this place?"

"The church is called Teampall Senain, or the Church of St. Senan. Some of this looks like it's been rebuilt."

Clouds covered the moon and dumped us into darkness. I opened my sidhe-seer senses as I walked around, focusing only on what I was feeling and nothing else. Something drew me toward another small area of remains nearby. It was a familiar sensation, but I couldn't place it. I didn't feel sick, but I felt _something_. The closer I got to the small building, the more I felt it.

Then I remembered. I sucked in a breath. "Does this talisman have anything to do with sifting, Barrons?" I took another deep breath, trying to slow down my racing heart. The feeling intensified. It reminded me of V'lane—the same feeling I had right before he would sift me to the beach or wherever.

The clouds suddenly cleared the moon and I could see the structure before me. Another rectangle of rubble, with flat stones for the floor inside. There was half a doorway with a bar across it. I moved closer, my leg poised to go over the bar to scope out the inside.

"Mac! Stop!"

I turned around, looking at his hand around my arm. "What? There's something in there, Jericho! It's about sifting, isn't it?" Why was he stopping me?

"Wait. There's something you need to know before you go over that bar."

"What?"

"There's a local legend about St. Senan's bed. I can't let you go over that bar without you knowing."

"Okay. Just tell me."

He took a deep breath, but it didn't make him look any more comfortable. He lifted his hands to put them on me, then stopped, dropping them to his side. "According to the legend, any female who crosses that bar and enters St. Senan's bed will never bear children."


	3. Chapter 3

These characters belong to Karen Marie Moning.

Hugs to my fabulous beta reader BonTempsCutie. Thanks for all you do for me!

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**Chapter 3**

"What did you say?" Had I heard him right? He stared at me while I waited for an answer. We were on the verge of finding something. What was he thinking?

"The record books say that St. Senan didn't allow women on the island. Whether that bit of history has morphed into this current legend or not, I don't know, but the folklore says that women crossing that bar will be rendered infertile. Incapable of bearing children."

"I know what infertile means, Barrons. And so what? Are you saying there's validity to this myth?"

"I'm telling you, Miss Lane, because you would kick my petunia if you found out about it later. I'm merely disclosing information." The corners of his mouth twitched.

I shook my head. "And I'll still have to kick your petunia if you aren't disclosing the whole story. Just who would I be having these babies with, Barrons?"

Even in the dark, I could see he'd raised his eyebrows, and still he said nothing.

I shook my head. "What do you want me to say? Is this some sort of test? I thought we came here for some OOP detecting. Has this legend ever been verified—with actual people?"

"Not that I'm aware."

I didn't know why we were wasting time with this, and I really didn't care. I wanted to find what we were looking for. Not discuss my reproductive future. "So we don't know if it's true or if it's something one of the monks or locals made up. Maybe it was another way to keep sidhe-seers from discovering this artifact. Keeping the females off the island would have cut down the risk of that." I walked back to the stacked stone and pointed at the metal bar blocking the path to the interior of St. Senan's bed. "This bar doesn't look all that old, does it? Not original, that's for sure, not on this island. I'm not even convinced the talisman has survived, to be honest. But I felt something in here, Jericho, and I'm going to check it out."

He started to say something and then hesitated. When he spoke, his voice was the one he used when he really wanted me to pay attention. "It's your decision."

His shoulders tensed under his leather coat as he waited for my answer. He looked…unsettled, an emotion I didn't see very often on him. Almost never would be more accurate. I didn't understand it. I assumed he couldn't get me pregnant, and I had come to terms with that being for the best considering the state of the world and my questionable DNA. Had I assumed wrong? He'd never asked me if I wanted children, and this was a strange way to do it. Did he think I would leave him when that maternal clock started ticking? That was a lot to think about while my sidhe-seer senses vibrated from something in the vicinity.

In the space of a few minutes, a night of treasure hunting had turned into something deeply personal and out of left field. I didn't know what to say. But there was one thing I absolutely knew. I would never leave him. How could he not know that by now?

He started toward me and I took advantage of Barrons' momentum. I grabbed a fistful of his jacket and yanked him to my chest. I wanted him close when I said this. One look at his eyes and I saw the telltale signs that he was holding back his beast. I hoped my next words would change the direction of this conversation. "Whether that legend is true or not doesn't matter to me. They said no one ever came back from _Pri-ya_, and I'm standing here. It's just a silly legend to keep people afraid. Whatever the future brings, we'll deal with it." I kissed him hard and fast, smiling over the expression on his face. His features had relaxed, the tension starting to leave his shoulders. I cupped his cheek, and let my lips whisper across his. "Now let's find this thing and get back to Dublin."

A smile curled his lips. His arms held me in place for another kiss, one that would give me lots to think about on our drive back to Dublin. It was a while before we finally stopped kissing and clutching each other.

"Let's find this thing and get home, Barrons."

"Yes," he said, following it with a low growl. "So what did you feel? And where?"

I walked around the perimeter of the ruins following the same path I had before. "When we walked here, there was a sense that something changed. I felt different but I couldn't place it at first. It took me a while to connect it to what I would feel right before V'lane would sift me out. It got stronger as we neared the wall."

He followed me around the perimeter. "Is it the same all around?" He examined the wall, running his hand over it. He even pulled out a flashlight and examined the remains of the wall.

I continued walking around the stone rectangle, focusing on the feeling and attempting to gauge its strength at different places along the wall. It took a while, but after three slow trips around St. Senan's bed, I could pinpoint the location where the sensation became stronger.

"Over here, Barrons."

His eyes swept the horizon. "The north side."

"Yes."

"Might be coincidence, but Kafziel is associated with the north."

"So who is this Kafziel anyway, and are you going to tell me about what this talisman is for?"

"The Kafziel talisman is supposedly capable of something like sifting. Moving quickly from one destination to another. Magic texts associated with the Kabbalah call it kefitzat haderekh or 'jumping the road'."

We talked while we both searched the immediate area as best we could in the dark. "So where do the Fae come in?"

"I don't know. I would hypothesize that at some point, someone stole the Fae magic and was able to put it to use, but I have no evidence of that in any texts. Having the talisman would be of great benefit to finding out if its origins are Fae or something else."

"Ok, where do we go from here? It could be anywhere. Underground."

He looked inside the rectangle to the huge slab that covered what was supposedly the bed. "If you were going to hide something that you didn't want exposed to the elements, where would you put it?"

"Well, inside that grave. But I told you Barrons, I'm not too eager to become a grave robber. Maybe—"

"Are you so certain it's actually someone's grave, Miss Lane?"

"Well, no, but— you know." It just didn't feel right, all the same.

"I'm lifting that slab. Then we'll know for sure." He handed me the flashlight. "Stay there. It's dangerous for us both to be in there."

Barrons took off his jacket and jumped over the wall. He ran his hand around his edge of the slab, looking for handholds. I stayed out of his way. After he tried a few different positions, he found one that was comfortable, and lifted. Well, grunted and lifted. The edge of the slab rose about six inches before he lowered it.

"It's stuck over here." I moved the flashlight to where he pointed. He changed positions to find handholds on the other side of the slab. He raised the rock again, and it stuck for a moment before it gave way. With another grunt, Barrons tipped the large rock back and rested it against the wall.

Underneath was a smaller second slab with a large cross carving on the top. It looked older, less refined than the one Barrons had just moved. It was also flush with the dirt, not above it.

I started to crawl over the wall to help him dig around it.

"Stay there," he repeated.

"I told you, Barrons—that stuff doesn't matter to me." I lifted my foot, and he pinned me with a look that stopped me.

"It's not safe. These rocks could shift and it's getting late. We need to be out of here by dawn. We don't have much time." He started digging around the second slab with his hands.

Barrons worked quickly, removing enough dirt around the rock to attempt to lift it from where it was embedded in the soil. This one didn't seem as heavy, but it was harder to move. He managed to get it out of the way. Underneath was a flat metal plate, smaller than the rock he just moved. Unless St. Senan was a very short man, this wasn't his grave. It was too small to be anyone's grave. Barrons ran his hand around the outer edge of the two-foot by three-foot box metal box nestled in the ground.

"Lead. It's heavy and the best protection for underground burial. Whatever is inside is protected, and it's not something you would normally see in a six-century grave, even for a monastic burial. Saint Senan is not buried here." He pulled on the lid, but it didn't move. I focused the beam of light on his hands as he moved them around the edge of the lid. "There's got to be a catch somewhere."

He kept at it and I thought I heard him mumble some words as he searched for the way to open the box. Another look at the sky and he tensed up. It was getting close to sunrise.

"We should come back Barrons. We'll have more time tomorrow night."

"We could, but give me a few more minutes." He stepped away from the hole he had created. Then he jumped onto the lid of the box and checked the edges again. The sight of his rippling muscles as he stretched across the hole in the ground was starting to get to me. The low growl of satisfaction that came from him didn't help either. I wanted to find this thing and get back to our bed. This little excursion was cutting into our private time. His voice shocked me out of thinking just what we could be doing with that private time.

"Found it."

He stood on the box and placed his hands on each side of it. "Pressure lock. Needed my weight on the lid to release it. Let's see what we have here."

I heard the catch release when he reached down with his hands, then he stepped off the lid and lifted. The feeling I had earlier grew as if something slammed into my chest when he lifted that lid. "It's close Barrons. I'm really feeling it now."

The lid was heavy and even though it was unlocked, his body strained with the effort to raise it. He stacked it next to the other two slabs. Inside the lead box was another box, this time a wooden box that had started to deteriorate. Barrons worked quickly, having no trouble lifting the individual pieces of the split wooden lid. Once he had a good portion removed, I moved the flashlight inside.

"Holy fudge-buckets, Barrons!"

He grinned up at me, his eyes no longer competing with the beast. I had seen that look on him before. We had found something, but I wasn't sure what. "What is that?"

He removed another piece of the lid. That sifting feeling intensified right along with the smile on Barrons' face. "Looks like your OOP detecting skills are still intact, Miss Lane."

* * *

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

These characters belong to Karen Marie Moning. I'm just playing with them for a while.

Thanks to my friend BonTempsCutie for helping to make this fic better.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Gold. A lot of it. I could see it gleaming through the cracked boards that covered the top of another box. The flashlight made it look brighter. The decomposing lid covered a smaller metal box that fit inside the lead container. Barrons tore off the broken wooden pieces until we could see everything inside. A divider separated the box into two unequal sections. The larger side contained an assortment of jewelry, daggers and vessels made from gold and adorned with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, opals and other precious stones. I couldn't tell the depth of the box, but then again, I couldn't see the bottom either. Pirate's treasure—that's what it looked like. The dirt had been undisturbed—how long had all this stuff been buried here?

Barrons' head circled around as he looked at the contents of the smaller section of the box from all angles. There was a single box in that compartment. It was a tight fit, and he rocked his hand back and forth to loosen it. It didn't move at first, but he eventually lifted what looked like a small jewelry box from the compartment. He glanced up at me before he carefully raised the lid. A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach, followed by the feeling I was about to sift out. I hadn't felt nausea like that since Barrons shoved those photocopies of the Sinsar Dubh in my face.

I sucked in a deep breath to stem the nasty feeling in my belly. "That's it. It has to be."

His face changed ever so slightly. My voice had given me away, and I was sure he noticed my discomfort. He closed the lid of the box. Leaping out of the hole, he placed it on the stone wall on the far side of where I stood. "That better, Mac?"

The nausea and other sensations subsided, but I wondered why it had affected me so much. "Yes, thank you. Is that it? The artifact you're looking for?" I shook my head. "If it is, that was too easy, Barrons. Why haven't you found it before?"

"Contrary to what you might think, I've been looking for it for a long time. I've looked on Scattery before, but I had no reason to dig in this place or any other until _you_. No one knew for sure where it was. There are many artifacts of this type, all with some special magic or purpose to them and someone's always looking for them, somewhere. It's not wise to start a frenzy on suspicions. Mistakes get made." He started closing up the lead box.

"What about the other stuff in there? You're leaving it?" That didn't seem at all like him. I wondered if those locked rooms on the upper floors of the bookstore contained these sorts of treasures, but knowing Barrons, all the valuable stuff would be underground. It was getting closer to dawn though, and we'd already spent more time than we should here.

"I'll send my men back around for the rest. That is all we are taking with us." He nodded toward the jewelry box on the stonewall. Would I be able to be in the car with it? What if it sifted me out or something? Could I develop immunity to its power, as I had with the Sinsar Dubh? So many questions and I bet Barrons had the answers. He was definitely going to be spilling his guts on the way back to Dublin, as long as I could get in the car with that thing.

Barrons moved the first set of stones back into position; I suppose you could say he was remaking St. Senan's bed. He strained under the heavy weight, the curves and dips of his body flexing in the moonlight. I loved watching his perfect body. But it was more than just his body that got to me, it was his raw power and dominance over...everything. It was in the way he moved, so commanding and masterful. Dominant. Just like when we were in bed. Or on the floor. Or in the shower.

He growled as he put the last stone in place, his nostrils flaring. He looked over at me, lips parted, chest heaving. "Don't stop."

"Don't stop what?" I leaned over the wall, and smiled when his eyes fell to my cleavage. I knew he'd appreciate that. After all, Barrons knew exactly what watching him move those slabs of rock would do to me. I craved his body around mine, wanting to rub the scent of his skin all over me. If I didn't get him soon, I might climb over the wall and into St. Senan's bed with him, even though it was the last thing he wanted me to do.

"Don't stop whatever it is you're thinking." He gave me a hungry look and took another deep breath of the cool night air. We'd played it like this before, seeing how aroused I could get him from my scent alone. His eyes challenged me. I wasn't backing down.

"Hurry up, then. The wind is picking up and it's a long ride back to Dublin." I gave him a playful smile as I adjusted my neckline and heard a low noise in his throat in response.

"You'll pay for that teasing, woman." He set the last stone in place and kicked at the dry grass and dirt to fill in the small gap that showed between the soil and the stone. Barrons looked to the brightening horizon. The sun would be up soon. Wicked clouds rolled across the sky and the sound of distant thunder had him jumping out of St. Senan's bed.

"Let's go."

He stuffed the jewelry box into his pocket and grabbed my arm. Before I could speak a word, he swung me up onto his back and was moving toward the quay. His powerful legs covered ground so fast that all I could think about was holding tight around his neck. My legs squeezed his narrow waist, and the rhythmic motions of his body as he ran to the boat rubbed against me, torturing my already aroused flesh. He must have felt it too, or scented it, because a low moan drifted past my ears as we moved. By the time we got to the boat, I didn't want him to stop. It felt too good. I had no doubt I was winning the arouse-by-scent game.

Barrons jumped onto the boat, his body stretching out beneath me. Lowering me from his back onto the deck, I uncurled my arms from his neck so he could release the rope tethering us to the dock. With a roar of the engine, the captain moved out into the River Shannon. The storm blowing in made the waters choppy and the boat not only went forward but also rocked up and down as we headed toward the shore.

A sharp, barking noise got my attention. It came from the water. I heard it again. I moved near the edge of the deck to see what it was, but Barrons took me by the arm and pulled me back. "Not too close, the water is too rough. The deck will be slippery from the rain."

"What is that noise?"

"Dolphins. They like to swim the bow waves."

I laughed. "Maybe dolphins were St. Senan's sea monster." I peered toward the edge again. "I wish I could see them."

He wrapped his strong arms around me and edged me over to the side where I could see them. A group of four dolphins chattered as they breached out of the water and then pitched down into the dark velvety river. They looked and sounded like they were having fun.

Then he distracted me with his breath tickling across the tattoo he had given me months ago. The soft kiss he placed there sent a shiver of pleasure where I wanted him most. The ride on his back had hit all the right places. I needed more. I needed him.

Before I could do anything about that, the boat slowed and the captain brought us into dock. The rain had picked up in the last few minutes and Barrons set me under the awning while he secured the boat. I jumped up on the dock and he followed me, directing me to the garage. The sky was still partially dark, but the people of Kilrush started to move about the marina. The fewer people that saw us the better.

I hurried to keep up with him as we made our way back to the car. Flashes of lightening and rolls of thunder chased us down the street. My long leather coat kept me semi-dry, but the wet fabric of my jeans and wet shoes made me slow and awkward. I fell behind but then his hand reached back for me. With a little tug, he had me under his arm.

At the garage, Barrons opened a side door and pushed me inside. The door slammed. Two steps in and he had me against the wall, his thick thigh holding me in place as it pressed between my legs. He rubbed it against me, stimulating my most sensitive places. I was tempted to ride him and get myself off. I couldn't see him in the dim light of the garage—I could only feel him and his hard, wet body covering mine. His swollen length moved against my belly. I knew what he felt like inside of me and I wanted it. He started panting, taking short, deep breaths of air and the scent of my desire.

I brushed back the hair from my face, and then he kissed me. Maybe claimed me was a more accurate description. His tongue filled my mouth, probing and teasing. I couldn't breathe and I didn't care. His hand curled around my throat, caressing and restraining me. There was nothing gentle about it. He demanded and I submitted willingly. The way his body ground against the wet fabric of my jeans was almost too much friction. I grabbed his face, and kissed him back just as hard, tasting his mouth as I dragged my body across his thick, hard flesh. I managed to get out one word. "More."

He kissed a path down my throat, his lips setting my skin on fire. The sound of his deep voice mixed with heavy breaths in the dark garage had me grinding against his thigh. Oh, he wanted it too. "You know I don't like to be teased, Miss Lane." He breathed into my ear, nipping at my lobe, tasting my blood, my skin, and me.

I bit his bottom lip in response, giving him a love bite I knew would drive him wild. His dick throbbed against me. "You love being teased, Barrons. Admit it." I needed him inside me. Now. Even in wet clothes, I was aware of my own slick heat aching for him to fill me. My hands went to his belt but he knocked them away, instead grabbing them in a hold above my head.

"I'll admit nothing, Miss Lane." He stared at me as he unbuttoned his trousers and released himself, leaning into me every now and then so I could feel him. He knew what I wanted. My eyes dropped down between us. Since he had immobilized me, his hand roamed where it wanted—teasing and pinching my nipples until they were so tight and hard I thought I might come just from that. My head fell back against the wall, and I couldn't stop the groan that came from within me. Desire, hot and demanding, stirred in my belly. I needed him. Craved him.

A brush of his hand at my waist and somehow my pants were down at my knees. His fingers, cold from the rain, slipped into me. I felt every demanding caress in my slick heat. I cried out when he pulled them away. He stopped everything, watching my face, telling me silently that he was in charge of this. My breath stalled when he lifted my thigh with his free hand. Then he pushed into me with a grunt that almost sent me over the edge from its carnal quality. When he started moving, every thrust took me higher. The garage filled with the sound of him pounding me, and I took it all, even screamed for more. The pleasure built until I couldn't control it any longer. When I came with a shout, he let my hands go. I clutched at his shoulders as he slowed, thrusting hard and deep until he let out that sound that drove me wild.

He panted into my neck, still throbbing inside me. I held him tight. It was pure bliss.


	5. Chapter 5

These characters belong to Karen Marie Moning. I'm just playing with them.

Much gratitude to BonTempsCutie for being a darn fine editor. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Chapter 5

Barrons nuzzled my neck, just behind my ear. I tilted my head, making it easier for him to access the spot I wanted him to lick. With a teasing swipe of his tongue, he whispered a question in my ear instead. "Bed or breakfast?"

"Don't we have to get back to Dublin?" I breathed out the words in between trying to catch my breath from his unexpected attentions, which was a nice way of saying he had just screwed me hard and fast up against the wall. Our whispers echoed louder in the garage that was no longer filled with the intensely carnal grunts and moans of just moments ago.

"We'll stay here and leave at dark." He was getting ready to pull away from me, and I held him in place. I wasn't ready to lose the warmth of his body covering mine, nor did I want to pull the wet jeans back up my legs. I looked around. Were we going to stay in the garage? If so, it was going to be a long uncomfortable day. I didn't see a bed or a kitchen anywhere, but I could play along.

"Breakfast then bed?" I nipped his ear but he slipped out of me with a low growl, the loss instantaneous. We adjusted our clothing, still damp from the rain and incredibly uncomfortable. "You wouldn't have a shower in this mysterious bed and breakfast, would you?" I felt gross from the rain and the dirt, and Barrons had been lifting and moving rock and dirt and lead lids all night long. He had to need a shower too.

He tilted his head and gave me a smirk, laughing at me for daring to question his accommodations. But then his look turned hot and hungry as he stood there in his quiet, appraising way. "Shower. Breakfast. Bed. I like the way you think, Mac."

Barrons took my hand and led me through a door in the rear of the garage. At the top of the stairs, I felt a large open space around me, even though I couldn't see a thing in the pitch-black. He flipped on a light. The room was sparsely furnished yet functional, and there was only one-way in and out. No windows. It was one large room with a kitchen in one corner and a huge shower enclosure in the other. I headed straight for it, stripping off my wet clothes as I crossed the room.

While I readied the shower and investigated the nearby cabinets for toiletries, Barrons started one of the gas fireplaces in the room and then lit the second fireplace in the sleeping area. There were no female touches in the space. Nothing adorned the walls and there was only a bed, a table, and a couch that looked like it opened into a bed. I breathed a sigh of relief when I found soap, shampoo and towels in a cabinet next to the small sink. My remaining wet clothing came off in a wet slap to the floor, and I caught Barrons watching me in all my naked glory a few times. I liked that he still looked.

He took the amulet from his pocket and left it on the counter near the sink. I barely felt a thing. It didn't seem to bother me as much as it did out on Scattery Island, and I wondered why. Did we miss something out there? Or was there something else in that crypt that we should have taken? Thinking about the amulet didn't last long, Barrons' clothes came off and I forgot about everything.

Even though that hard, tattooed body had been against me in the garage, I hadn't _seen_ it. Muscles rippled under skin that was darker than usual. He looked bigger too—his chest and shoulders straining, the sculpted flesh of his thighs displaying pure power. Whether that was from the exertion of uncovering the amulet, the brisk run to the boat or the incredible pounding he just gave me in the garage, I didn't know, but I licked my lips. He'd had his taste and I was going to have mine. One look at his magnificent torso and I wanted to throw myself at his knees and take that taste.

His eyes were on me too. "Mac—get in the shower." He used his quiet voice. My body responded with a zing of pleasure that went right to my already sensitive clit. How did he always make me want him so soon after having him?

I stepped into the enclosure and then he was right behind me, his body dominating mine from behind. Positioning me under the hot water, he washed my hair, his large hands massaging my scalp, relaxing me—preparing me. Some nights I wanted to fight him. Not this time. I wanted to submit. Wanted him to take.

He had no mercy. Soapy hands caressed my breasts, back and forth, teasing my nipples with pinches and palms that just skimmed the tips, leaving them achy and wanting. I leaned back on his shoulder and gave myself over to the feelings. The sight of his fingers as he made them slick with soap turned me on. Then those hands were back on my breasts. I arched into them, my nipples demanding the brutal pinch of his slippery fingers. His other hand skimmed my belly and down to the juncture of my thighs, where he worked my clit the same way. I breathed his name. Reverent, pleading for him to release the pleasure building inside of me.

My back cooled when he moved to face me, his hands suddenly gone. The orgasm he had been coaxing from me sputtered and stalled. But he wasn't done with me. He went down on his knees, his hands spreading my legs, his fingers spreading me too. I wanted more. Cried for more. His tongue felt rough and swollen, licking me until my knees felt weak and wobbly. I leaned against the wall to steady myself as he lifted my leg over his shoulder, his tongue sinking deeper into me. Stubble, soft from the warm shower felt like velvet against my sensitive skin. The fire inside me was ready to burn out of control. I bucked against his mouth and when his fingers stretched me as his mouth gently sucked my clit, I fell over the sweet edge again. He held me steady as the pleasure released its grip on me and turned my bones to mush.

I didn't get a chance to catch my breath when he turned me toward the wall and slid deep inside me from behind, giving me only a second to brace my arms on the shower wall. There was one sweet moment to feel him throbbing inside me before he moved without mercy, thrusting into me like he had in the garage. I cried out with every stroke, those sounds urging him on. Harder. Faster. More. I couldn't help it. We shared this lust, he and I. He took me higher and higher, until the pleasure strained and broke inside both of us. I clamped down on him, forcing a sound from his throat as he thrust a few more times. His orgasm shattered me again, both of us falling together this time.

The hot water became lukewarm by the time we finished washing, and I started dreaming of something to eat and a nice warm bed. Barrons wrapped himself in a towel and handed another to me as I stepped from the shower. Once I dried off, I wrapped the damp towel around me. It wasn't great, but it was better than putting on wet clothes. But when I turned around, Barrons held out a magnificent pink bathrobe, the fabric warm as if it had just come from the dryer. The material was thick, soft and fluffy. I'd never felt anything like it. Barrons didn't say a word as he helped me into it, but his attempts to be nonchalant about such a lovely offering didn't fool me—this robe did not fit into the masculine surroundings, and he had it there just for me.

"Thank you." Lust danced across his eyes as he watched me pull the warm robe around my naked body. It felt wonderful. He had even warmed it up by the fireplace for me. The look in his eye was enough to make me think round three of our Scattery Island sexcapade wasn't too far away.

"Hungry?"

Well, I was, for food and for him, but I was pretty sure he asking about food. I was starting to feel the effects of being up for almost twenty-four hours, and not having eaten for some time. He directed me over to the table and I combed out my hair while he rummaged through the refrigerator. He brought a plate of cheese, a bowl of fresh fruit, a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine over to the table. Then he set the jewelry box next to them. We both stared at the box while we ate and drank.

It wasn't long before my curiosity over what was in the box caught fire, especially now that it didn't seem to bother me. I poked it with my finger to see if touching it would make me feel sick again. Nothing. Barrons cleaned up the remains of our food, and when he returned to the table, he pointed to the box.

"Open it," he said.

I wanted to, but after what I felt out on the island, I wasn't too sure that my breakfast would stay down if I did.

"You open it."

"It bothers you?"

"Yes, sometimes, but not like the Sinsar Dubh. Different. Still icky."

"Icky? Is that a technical term?"

"Yes. And you can kiss my petunia Barrons, if you don't like it," I teased. He liked teasing, even if he didn't admit it. Especially if that teasing was likely to get him between my thighs, which was very likely considering we were about to crawl into bed.

"I'd be happy to do anything you'd like to your sweet ass, Mac."

"Okay, we're getting off track here. It doesn't bother me like it did when you first found it though. It's really not that bad at the moment, but I don't know what will happen when you open that box."

"Let's see."

He rocked the jewelry box lid open. I braced myself for a wave of nausea. It still wasn't bad. What was going on? Not that I was complaining, considering I didn't think I was going to be able to get in a car with that thing, but what had changed?

"It's not bad, Jericho. Not like it was on the island. Why is that? Did we get the right thing? Maybe it was something else in that box?"

He gave me a considering look, working things through in his own mind. "Maybe there was something else there that was making you sick." He pushed the box toward me.

"I'm getting a little of that strange sifting sensation, and a little queasiness, but it's definitely not bad." I looked in the box.

A gold disc approximately two inches in diameter filled the box. It sat on a pad of dark, threadbare fabric. There was no chain. In the center of the disk, smaller round onyx and diamond stones surrounded a large, red, not quite-marquise cut stone. Etched between the stones were runes I had never seen before.

The amulet seemed to glitter, as if it was outside on a sunny day, although there was very little light in the apartment. The object had a radiance of its own. Power too—I felt it pulling at me.

"What the heck is that thing, Barrons?" My voice came out small, not as I intended. I almost felt awestruck by the object and didn't know why. It was beautiful, but I had seen many beautiful artifacts over the last year. This object evoked a feeling I wasn't familiar with.

"Sifting magic, or so the books say."

"And you know how to use it?"

"No, but as long as I have it, no one else does."

"It's one of a kind? How do you know there aren't more of these around? How will we know if it works?"

He lifted it from the bed of velvet and placed it in his palm. Now that it was out of the box, I was even more drawn to it. My palm itched with an urge to put it in my hand and squeeze it, to have its brightness radiate through my body.

"I've only heard of one. I don't know how it works. Magic like the silvers, or something else? I'm not even sure its Fae magic at all."

"Let me hold it."

I ignored the strange look he gave me and put my hand out on the table, palm up. "Come on, Barrons."

He placed it in the center of my palm. My hand closed around it automatically, and I could feel the disc warming my skin. That sifting feeling rose inside me, building in intensity until it washed over me in waves, repeating over and over, strengthening with each crest. The symbols on the medallion seared into my flesh. I could smell the burning. I began to panic, wanting to drop it, but my fist stayed tight. Power engulfed me like a net, holding me together. My body felt liquid and pourable. I felt my cells changing.

Oh fuck. I was going to sift, and I didn't know how to stop it.

Where would it send me? Anxiety began in my belly and rose alongside the sifting feeling. I remembered this sensation. Standing outside the bookstore with V'lane. The sifting wave picked me up and took me away, down into the deep, dark imaginary sea. Screams filled my ears, the sound undulating with the wave. I needed it to stop. I squeezed my eyes closed, waiting for the wave to bring me out into the light again. I lost all sense of being.

Then the wave was gone. The screaming stopped. My throat burned from screaming. I kept my eyes closed, afraid to open then and find I was back in the Hall of Days or in a cactus or just lost. Wherever I was, I was pretty sure I had just sifted myself there.


	6. Chapter 6

These characters belong to Karen Marie Moning. I'm just playing with them.

Thanks to my beta reader BonTempsCutie who once again helped to make this a better chapter.

In honor of Memorial Day 2013, thank you to the brave men and women who are part of the armed services, especially who have died defending freedom on foreign soil.

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**Chapter 6**

I wiggled my toes. Check. Tested my legs. Check. Moved my torso around. Check. Everything felt normal. The pain, the screaming, and the waves of power rolling across me had vanished. I opened my eyes, blinking furiously as my brain registered my location. My head lifted to look at the shingle hanging from the brass pole. A laugh bubbled up in my throat.

The bookstore. _My_ bookstore.

Minutes ago, I had been sitting at a table in Kilrush, and here I stood in front of my bookstore in Dublin. Sifted here, like the Fae. This was huge. My head filled with possibilities, not all of them good.

A niggling little worry poked at me. The streets seemed strangely quiet for this time of day. Was I really at Barrons Books and Baubles or was it just part of the magic? I had enough experience with illusion to doubt these things, but one thing I knew for sure. I stood alone on the street, wearing nothing but a fluffy pink robe. No key. No cell phone. No shoes. No panties.

I moved into the alcove and grabbed the doorknob, trying it for kicks. It didn't budge, as I expected. Peering through the green tinted glass, I scanned the inside, sighing with relief as I recognized the magazines on the rack by the counter. I'd been rearranging them before Barrons picked me up last night. I changed my position to see the clock behind the register. Almost eleven thirty, which made sense, considering it had been almost eleven when Barrons and I finished that shower.

Barrons. What had he done when I poofed away from that table? I imagined him roaring, tossing the few pieces of furniture in that room, probably with a few choice words for me for using that amulet. It wasn't like I knew I was using it, not that it would matter to him. He'd still be angry, his eyes dark and his body tense even though I had no intention of trying to sift when I took the amulet from the box. It had used me, not the other way around. Still, I wouldn't blame him for a mini-tantrum over this. It had to be tough on him, watching me disappear. Then there was the biggest question of all, the one I couldn't figure out—how had I done it?

My fisted hand still held the amulet, but the overwhelming desire to hold it was gone. When Barrons had opened the box, I had to have it in my hand. I opened my hand and looked at the object resting in my palm. There were no marks on my hand where I felt the raised symbols burning into my skin. Everything I felt when I first held the thing had vanished. The amulet felt…dead.

I'd thought Barrons had been joking about the sifting magic, or that it had been some bizarre legend with no basis in fact, but here I stood, having traveled one hundred and seventy five miles in a blink of an eye. In a pink bathrobe. Right.

I scouted around the bookstore and the adjoining garage, checking for a broken window or some other way I could get in to either building. I had done it once before, but not wearing only a bathrobe.

Chester's was another option, and I could probably make the twenty blocks. Walking around Dublin, barefoot and questionably attired wasn't on my list of favorite things to do, especially without my spear, but at least I could call Barrons from there. Maybe I'd be able to find some clothes on my walk. Yeah. That's what I was going to do.

I looked down at the piece of metal in my hand—could I sift to Chester's? Or maybe into the bookstore? Or I could try to get back to Kilrush. Barrons might kill me, but I could try it again although that might be challenging since I had no clue what I had done to make the amulet's magic work. At the moment, the metal felt benign, as if I expended all the energy from it. Would it regenerate on its own or was it a one shot sift? The stiff breeze blowing my robe open reminded me that the results were unpredictable. The smart thing to do would be to let it alone. I didn't always do the smart thing.

"Nice bathrobe, Mac." My head whipped around at the sound of his voice, and before I had a chance to move, his huge body pinned me into the alcove. I knocked back the hand that was about to lift the robe away from my body so he could have a peak under it, and gave him a push back. He laughed at me and settled for checking out my legs. Closing my hand around the amulet, I pulled the robe tighter around me and shoved my hands into the pockets.

"Did Barrons send you?"

Lor leaned forward again, his eyes drifting to my cleavage as he inhaled at my neck. I'd seen all of Barrons' men do that. I made a mental note to kiss Barrons for that long shower, knowing it had muted the scent of our earlier passion.

"Yes." His eyes narrowed as he took in my appearance and he inhaled my scent again. "What sort of mischief have you two gotten into?"

"If Barrons didn't tell you, Lor, what makes you think I will? Where is he anyway?"

Lor snorted and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He pressed a single button and leered at me while he waited with the phone at his ear. The voice on the other end was not happy. I was right. Barrons was pissed.

"She's here. Looks fine to me. Outside the bookstore in a pink robe." I heard something shatter through the phone. Lor watched me as he listened for a long minute before he handed it to me. "He wants to talk to you."

I snuck under his arm and walked a few steps. I hated talking in front of Lor, but there wasn't much I could do about it. The smirk he gave me said he knew that, but the growls of frustration on the other end of the phone made me forget about Lor. "Barrons?"

"What…the fuck…were you thinking, Mac?" His voice was quiet and controlled, a sure sign he was plenty upset with me.

"Give me a chance to explain."

"Oh, you are going to explain. We are going to have a long talk about it when I get back to Dublin." He was no longer growling. "Are you all right?"

I glanced back at Lor who raised his eyebrows at me. So much for privacy. "I'm fine, Barrons. Really."

"Bloody hell, don't do that again. I had no idea—" His voice was softer, more relieved than angry. "Do you still have it?"

He didn't have to tell me what "it" was. "Yes."

"Lor will let you into the bookstore. Go to my desk. There's a small jewelers tray in the center drawer. Drop it in there, and once you do, don't touch it again. We'll be going out tonight, so get some rest. Lor will stay and take care of anything that makes it through the wards. I've got a few things to wrap up here and I'll be back at dark as we planned."

"Are you expecting trouble?"

"Not really, but I'm not taking chances until we get it secured." His voice lowered. "I don't want you taking any more chances either, Mac. Stay inside the bookstore until I get back, and don't touch the amulet. Put Lor back on the phone."

"He wants to talk to you again." I handed the phone back and leaned up against the bookstore window. At least I didn't have to walk around town in a pink bathrobe. Barrons might have seemed okay by the end of the call, but I knew there was a good possibility he'd stew about it on the ride back to Dublin. But I was also confident that he would be more interested in our new acquisition and figuring out how to make it work, rather than making me pay for being impetuous.

"He sent Fade and Kasteo. They're on their way. And one more thing, Barrons," he said. "Ryodan wants to know when you're returning his car."

Even I heard the growling snort before the line went dead.

Ryodan's car? I had totally forgotten about the jag. Barrons wasn't giving it back before I had a chance to drive it. What did the car have to do with this? Something was up. I wasn't above pumping Lor for information if I had to be stuck with him all day.

"So what's the story with the car, anyway?"

"If Barrons didn't tell you, what makes you think I will?" Lor raised an eyebrow and mocked with my own words.

"Very funny. Let's get this over with. You have a key?"

Lor focused on the front door, then gave it a little push and the door swung open. He barely touched it and didn't even use a key. I needed to learn how to do that. As usual, he stood blocking part of the doorway, so I'd have to brush up against him to get inside. No doubt he'd be trying to get another glance down my robe, too. As I walked by him, I grabbed my two pink lapels and pretended to flash him, taking advantage of his distraction to land a hard elbow jab to the ribs. His deep laugh only served to infuriate me.

"Nice tits," he said.

I ignored him and went straight to Barrons' office, dropping the amulet in his desk as he'd instructed. I needed rest, and I hoped I could get some with Lor lurking downstairs. I climbed the stairs to my old bedroom and threw myself across my bed. Exhaustion took over, and I slept.

**XXX**

I woke just before six and took a quick shower. With the amulet safely stored, there was nothing else to do but wait for Barrons to get back from Scattery Island. He'd been cryptic about what else he had to do there, but I could easily see him going back for the remaining contents of St. Senan's bed.

Grabbing one of the last blank journals in the store and a pen from the counter, I took a seat on the chesterfield sofa near Barrons' office. I wrote down everything I had remembered about our little amulet adventure. Maybe it could help us figure out how to make the magic work.

As I looked over the list, my skin started to tingle. That electric feeling washed over the seating area, radiating out from behind me. There was no mistaking his power, that charged feeling I recognized anywhere. I felt something else coming from him too. Anger. I was right about him stewing on the drive home.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking, Mac?"

I didn't turn around to the sound of his voice. "It wasn't like that, Barrons, and if you give me a chance to explain—"

When I turned around to look at him, my breath caught in my throat. His body tensed with anger, but there was pure desire in his eyes. I saw the beast there, ready to claim me without mercy. A familiar heat grew in my belly, and then he was on me. Flames of desire licked at me when he tipped my head back and sealed his mouth over mine.

He took out his anger with me in that kiss, leaving me with swollen lips and the taste of him on my tongue. After a moment to catch my breath, he came back for a second, more tender joining that left me moaning and panting for more than just his mouth fused to mine. He growled deep in his throat as he broke away.

Taking a seat next to me, he picked up my notes from the table in front of us. He processed them as he read, shaking his head a few times. Then he looked at me.

"Start at the beginning and tell me everything."

So I did. I told him how the amulet had made me feel when he had opened the box this morning. I gave him every last detail. When I was finished, he'd added a few notes to my paper, but still hadn't said much. I got the feeling he was baffled too.

"It felt like the amulet charged up, then sifted me. You don't know how it works either, do you?"

"No, I don't, and after this morning, it seems too volatile. I'm inclined to lock it up and forget about it. Once we complete our transaction later, that is."

Transaction? I let that part slide. "You don't want to know how to use it? Since when do you want to do the 'safe' thing? We need to figure this out, Barrons. It's another weapon. One the other side already has. It evens things up. I want to try it again."

"Miss Lane, you don't know what you're playing around with—"

"Oh, don't 'Miss Lane' me Barrons! You were okay with me hunting the book, and now you're worried about a little sifting? I don't buy it."

His inscrutable stare burned into me. What was his problem? I wasn't about to just let that amulet sit in his desk or his safe. With one smooth move of his arm, he flipped the table in front of us, scattering the books and pens all over the seating area.

"Bloody hell, Mac. I didn't know where you were! I couldn't feel you through my brand. I didn't know if I'd see you again and you talk about trying it again as if it's nothing."

"I'm sorry but I had no idea—"

"That's the problem, Mac. You had no idea and you did it anyway."

He was right. I didn't have any control over the sifting and it was dangerous, but so were many things in AWC Dublin. "It's a weapon, Jericho, and if we just put it away, what good is it? We need to know how to use it."

When he sighed, I knew he had seen my point. "I'm willing to consider that, as long as we do more research before the next attempt."

"I thought you said there wasn't any information about it."

"I know a little and there is someone who might have additional information, but it's going to cost me."

"Ryodan."

"Yes."

"Tell me again what you know."

"Have you ever heard the adage, seventh heaven?"

"As in, I'm in seventh heaven? Yes, I've heard that before. I always thought it was just a saying, not an actual place." Barrons pulled the box from his pocket and opened it. He'd replaced the amulet in its original box. The gold and gemstones seemed bright again.

"Some think it IS an actual place. They believe that long ago, one universal creator divided the kingdom into seven parts or heavens, and then shared his power with seven archangels who became the rulers."

"Why seven?"

"Seven was considered a mystical number, for example, seven heavens, seven days of the week, seven observable planets, and even seven colors of the rainbow. Each heaven was associated with one the seven observable planets. You will find references to this concept in Christian, Jewish, and even Islamic texts."

"Where do the Fae fit in?

"I'm not sure. All we know is the Fae have this magic."

"Okay, so what else do you know?"

"Upon death, the soul would travel through these heavens, or layers for enlightenment. The seventh heaven was located closest to the universal creator, and by the time a soul had traveled through all the layers, they were ready to be reunited with the creator. The phrase "seventh heaven" denotes an ultimate state of happiness, does it not? "

"For a minute, I thought you were going to tell me this was early astrology, with the planets and heavens and rulers. How does all of this relate to the amulet?"

He gave me an approving look. "You are right. Its origins are rooted in astronomy, with a twist of religion and a good dose of ritualistic magic. Each archangel had their own power symbols that could be used for invoking intentions."

"So how old is that thing and what sort of magic are we talking about here?"

"First we need to identify the archangel associated with this talisman. This red stone here is set in the center of the seal of Saturn, the ruling planet for the seventh heaven. It's surrounded by seven black onyx stones." He turned it over. "And from the dragon and spear etched on the back this object, Mac, this is a magical talisman of the archangel Cassiel, ruler of the seventh heaven."

"Why do I get the feeling you've got more to tell me?"

"Oh, here is where it gets interesting. Cassiel is associated with kefitzat haderech, a Jewish Kabbalic term that refers to the ability to travel from place to place with unnatural speed, as in, to be in one place, and then suddenly appear in another.

My eyes opened wide. "Sifting!"

"Yes."

"And you say Ryodan knows more?"

"He has a book. He won't show it to me for free."

I didn't know much about Barrons' relationship with his men, other than he seemed to be in charge, and he and Ryodan were often at odds with each other. I wasn't about to let that stop us.

I stood and grabbed my coat from the rack. "What are we waiting for? Let's go to Chester's. And I'm driving."

He put the amulet in his pocket, and dangled the car keys out to me on his finger. I grabbed them with a smile and as we left the bookstore, I tried to ignore the compulsion to rip that jewelry box from pocket, just to feel the heat of the amulet in my hand.


	7. Chapter 7

These characters belong to Karen Marie Moning. I'm just playing with them.

Thanks to BonTempsCutie for her awesome beta work. Any mistakes are all mine.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

I locked up the bookstore and we walked to the Jaguar parked out front. The air around me snapped and crackled with Barrons' energy. He was pissed off, and I didn't know why. We needed information about how the amulet worked, and Ryodan had it.

Barrons was dragging his feet for some reason. We knew that Cassiel's amulet worked; we just didn't know how to make it work when we wanted it to. I hadn't told him, but whatever had happened the first time I sifted was happening again. As soon as he'd brought it into the bookstore, I felt the compulsion to put that metal disk in my hand. To feel those marks pressed into my skin and that incredible energy building in me again. I needed it, craved it, and my brain didn't question it in the least. It felt natural and right to want it.

We were almost to the car when I'd had enough of his slow burn and I turned around when he wasn't expecting it, ending up in his face, my hands on his chest. "What are you so ticked off about? I can feel it rolling off you in waves."

"I would have rather discussed this inside, but in your eagerness to sift like the Fae, you didn't give me a chance." He punctuated his statement with raised eyebrows, as if to say "as usual."

He was right. I was ready to try it again, but I was forgetting that was important and I couldn't put my finger on it. If Ryodan's book could help, then I wanted to go for it, just as much as I wanted to sift again.

"Okay, maybe I could slow down a little, but I really don't get your reluctance, Barrons." I stopped there and held my tongue, since it was tempting to imply he only wanted to move if it was in _his_ best interest.

"My reluctance, Miss Lane, has to do with your lack of restraint. So quick to trust Ryodan. So quick to run to Ryodan. And if you were to lose the amulet to Ryodan in the process, would that be acceptable? Do you trust him enough to believe he wouldn't take it from you if he had the chance?"

The way he said it got my attention and my head snapped up to look at his face. He'd implied quite a bit there, and I had a feeling that having this discussion on the street wasn't making him happy either. I got the sense that there was even more twisting him up, too.

"I assumed Ryodan is on our team, Barrons. Was I wrong about that?"

All that got me was a grunt. It was my turn to raise my eyebrows.

He leaned down until his mouth was close to mine. He invaded my space, and it wasn't the first time. "Does Ryodan seem like a team player to you, Miss Lane?"

Something about his tone made me take notice. He was too close. I wanted to reach in his pocket and take the amulet from him. The urge was so strong I pulled back, forcing the distance between us to keep me from swiping it from him, as if I could. "Well, no, not exactly a team player, but I thought he was one of your men and all your men were loyal to you. Was I wrong about that, too?"

"No, not wrong, just uninformed about our current circumstances."

"Maybe you should bring me up to speed then, Barrons, because I have no idea what you're talking about. All I know is that we need more information and Ryodan has it."

He took a deep breath, might have been a sigh.

"Get in the car."

I turned and started around back of the car to the passenger side, when the sound of keys stopped me. Barrons held them by the ring on his finger, jiggling them as he held them out. He was smiling, his previous mood mysteriously gone.

"Really? You're letting me drive?"

"You want to, don't you?"

I grabbed the keys he dangled in front of me and jumped into the drivers' seat. Once I settled in, Barrons leaned into the car and again got in my face. I wasn't sure if he was going to kiss me or bite me, or which one I preferred, but our little talk about Ryodan seemed to satisfy him, and he was back to being more playful. Maybe it was the car.

"You drive. We'll talk."

"Okay." I waited for him to get in. "Where to?"

"Just drive."

I headed out of Dublin and toward the abbey. I hadn't been there in a while. Maybe they would have something in their library about the amulet. It was worth a shot since it was clear that Barrons wanted to stay away from Ryodan for the moment. I missed some of the girls there, Kat and Jo…and Dani. We hadn't talked since I found out her part in my sister's death, and I wasn't in any hurry to confront her. I had no idea if Dani was even staying at the abbey anymore. Whatever would happen with Dani had yet to be decided in my book. She was firmly in my "deal with later" category.

Barrons didn't want me anywhere near the abbey with Cruce there, and I'd promised him I wouldn't go alone. A few nights after Cruce had been entombed in the massive underground chamber, he'd extracted that vow from me. Normally, I wouldn't let him dictate where I could and couldn't go, but his powers of persuasion were many, especially in bed. He'd spent that entire night claiming every inch of me, not giving me what I needed until I agreed to stay away from the abbey. It was a dirty way to negotiate, but I was getting hot just remembering what he'd done to me that night, and how tenderly he had done it. It was worth it.

There wasn't a lot of room in the car, and he sat close enough for me to get a good read on his mood. Quiet contemplation replaced his earlier tension, and I was glad because it was one less thing for me to worry about. HHHH;; is body flowed into the seat like liquid and he managed to look not only comfortable but really hot too. I knew that look on his face. He was working something out in his head, and I left him to that and enjoyed the drive.

The heat of the engine leaking through the floorboards and the sound of the engine as I shifted gears took my mind off everything. I felt alive. I lost myself in the feel of the Jaguar, forgetting about the itch in my palm and what was causing it. Maybe it was the growl of the engine, the intimate compartment, and the hard, sleek curves of the car and the man sitting next to me, but there was something incredibly erotic about this car, and I was feeling it.

Once we were out of the city and the grass was green in places, I opened the window, adding the smell of green grass and earth to the slight smell of burning fuel from the car. It was a perfect moment. I just drove, and we didn't talk, but it wasn't long before his hand found its way into my lap, his fingers around my thigh. I shifted in my seat, just in case he wanted more room to explore. The sounds of the engine were replaced with the sounds of audible breaths.

"Eyes and mind on the road, Miss Lane." his voice husky and low, almost a growl, so close in the small compartment. His breath touching my neck as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. It took me a second to realize the panting I heard was my own.

"I can hardly keep my eyes on the road when you're doing that, Barrons." My head tilted to the side, my neck arching toward his lips. His tongue flicked out to taste me before he slowly pulled away and made a purring noise deep in his throat. "Tell me again about what happened back in Kilrush."

"Okay. Where do you want me to start?"

"After the shower, or wherever you think things become relevant."

It made me smile that he gave me that. "I wasn't aware of anything weird until we were sitting at the table, and you opened the box. I felt an overwhelming urge to touch it—to have it in my hand. I felt the same way earlier when you brought it in from the desk, and I'm feeling it here in the car. A compulsion to have it in my hand. "

"You're feeling that now?"

"Yes, but I was ignoring it. The car and other things distracted me too."

"Then what?"

"Once I had it in my hand, some sort of power built around me and I knew something was about to happen. It made me feel like—hey, wait a minute. I was thinking about V'lane sifting me away from the bookstore right before I ended up there. I don't know why I didn't remember that earlier."

Barrons scowled. "So you think that's why you ended up there? You just thought about it the bookstore and there you were?"

"I had totally forgotten about thinking that right before everything went crazy. I could hear you calling to me, but I didn't feel…solid, if that makes sense. The power built and then it just happened. Let's give it a try and see if I'm right."

"Listen to yourself, Miss Lane. What if you were to end up somewhere I can't get you?"

"Not gonna happen. I won't think of a place like that. I'm keeping it simple. Nothing fancy. What if I try the bookstore again?"

I pulled the car to the side of the road in a place where there were no houses, only open fields. "Come on, Barrons. Let me try it. I don't know what's going on between you and Ryodan, but won't it give you the advantage to know how to use this thing?"

He sat there for a good long while, just looking at me. I knew enough not to push when he was like this. He already thought I was too eager.

"You have my phone with you?"

"Yes." Mine was one of the few working cell phones in Dublin. One that had very special contacts. I didn't know how it worked, since no one else in Dublin had cellular service, but somehow the phone Barrons gave me worked.

"If you don't end up at the bookstore, send me a picture. And call me immediately. Do you have your keys?"

"Of course. Are you really going to let me do this?"

"Yes. I'm not thrilled about it, but yes, I'm going to let you try it again. If it doesn't work, we'll chance a trip to the abbey to check out their libraries before we hit up Ryodan for information."

"Okay." I tried to keep my excitement down, since Barrons might change his mind if he thought my head wasn't in the game.

We got out of the car and stepped into the middle of the road. Barrons pulled the box out of his pocket and I felt a familiar surge of desire. I wanted to try this again so bad, I was shaking. He leaned over, put his hand around the back of my neck and with a gentle tug, pulled me to him. "Contact me as soon as you get there," his lips on my hair. Then he leaned down and kissed me, hard. It was wet and deep and almost enough to have me thinking twice about what I was about to do.

"I will. Don't worry." I touched his face with my fingertips and kissed him with a tender touch of my lips to his. Then I stood in the center of the road and held out my hand.

Barrons put the box in it, and I removed the amulet, placing it in the same palm I had before. But something had changed in the last few minutes. As soon as I took the box from Barrons, I didn't feel the power anymore. All the energy was gone, as if someone had pulled the plug and it had all leaked out.

"It's not working. We missed something."

"It will never work for you." A voice came out of the darkness. Barrons pulled me behind him and looked around. We couldn't see anything. Last night had been a full moon and now it was completely pitch black. Something was weird about this.

"Do you see anything?" I whispered from behind him while I removed my spear from the holster under my arm.

"Stay close." Barrons said to me. His body started to change in front of me, his clothes straining across his hard back. "Show yourself," he growled into the darkness.

"Ah, no need to get all puffed up about this, Barrons. I'll just take the amulet and be on my way."

What looked like a man materialized in front of us, his body glowing with a purple light. I say he looked like a man, because he couldn't have been human to have appeared like he did. He had long, dark hair and was dressed like a fighter. An automatic rifle hung on his shoulder and knives decorated his belt, but I didn't think that was the most dangerous part of him. He looked as big and potentially as strong as Barrons or any of his men, but he didn't wear the scars of battle. His skin was flawless, his hair perfectly framing his face with dark waves that fell to his shoulders. He was gorgeous and reminded me of V'lane, only this guy emanated an entirely different vibe about him. I didn't get a Fae read from him at all, and he wasn't afraid of Barrons. In fact, he was smiling.

What the hell was he?

"Ah, MacKayla Lane is it? While I appreciate your question, I would rather we stay away from labels, shall we? I'm sure Barrons will agree. All part of accepting our diversity, isn't that right?"

My hand tightened around my spear. I wasn't thrilled with the mind reading. It was not only creepy, but it pissed me off. I was about to let him or it have it, but Barrons stepped in. There was definitely a lot of "male" in the air, with both of them in a stare down with some invisible line between them. Any moment this could turn bad, really bad.

"Stay out of her head. And if you want that amulet, go ahead and try to take it from me."

"Just what I thought you would say, Jericho Barrons, but hey, I had to try. I'm really not the violent sort, so here's what I'm going to do. You have three days to return the amulet to me. Notice I said, return. It belongs to me."


	8. Chapter 8

The characters belong to Karen Marie Moning. I'm just playing with them for a while.

Thanks to the lovely BonTempsCutie for her mad beta skills. I hope you are checking out her hot Ryodan / Jo story, Not Your Average Jo, and her other Fever fics.

Any remaining mistakes are mine.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Barrons moved forward, positioning himself in front of me. He was pissed off and ready to rumble. His energy crackled in the night air, whipping around, ready to strike. I gripped my spear tighter. Barrons prepared, and I followed. I didn't know what sort of man-like creature stood in front of us, but if I learned anything, I was following Barrons' lead.

"The amulet is mine," snapped Barrons.

I peered around Barrons for a closer look. Moments ago, he looked like a mercenary, but now his automatic rifle had vanished, and he looked more approachable, although Barrons didn't alter his aggressive stance in the least. Something changed in the air around me when the stranger stepped closer, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"What good is it to you, Barrons, besides your juvenile wager? You can't use it and neither will she."

"I don't give a fuck. It's mine. End of story." Barrons took a step forward and stood chest to chest with the mystery man.

"I beg to differ. It belongs to me. A family heirloom, if you will, and I can just take it from you." There was a hint of impatience in his voice.

"Go ahead and try it, old man."

Old man? He didn't look like an old man to me, but I didn't have time to think about that. Barrons tensed for the fight, and his body strained against his clothes. All muscles and power, he set himself to spring at the glowing man and when he did, it wouldn't be pretty.

There was something ridiculously quaint about this, like two boys fighting on the playground. I'd seen enough male posturing to know this was leading to a fist fight, only in this case, I didn't think it would be fists that were flying. Body parts would be more like it. My heart sped up in my chest, as adrenalin rushed through my veins. There was no flight response here, it was all fight.

I held my breath, waiting for the fight to start, waiting for Barrons to change into the beast, waiting to for mystery man to turn into something much worse.

Neither moved. Or spoke. Although, seething came to mind as I watched Barrons mentally sizing up his opponent. An odd glow illuminated everything around us, except for Barrons who stayed in shadows instead of being bathed in that purplish light. It was light versus dark, and as soon as I thought those words, Glowy-Guy's light changed.

It was the palest, hardly purple, closer to white, and it still bounced off Barrons. Our challenger's body changed again too, losing his fighter persona and taking on a more refined looked. Taller, regal and even more handsome, and then … the wings.

I'd seen wings before. The Unseelie King had a particularly impressive pair that I had rolled around in, but these wings were snow white, with multiple layers of feathers separated by fluffy down. I felt the urge to reach out and touch them; they looked soft and warm and comforting, yet still strong. Fully extended, the tips stretched out over ten feet on each side. As if that wasn't impressive enough, he flapped them in an easy rhythm and the rustle of the feathers sounded like silk on bare skin. Everything about the atmosphere changed as if he wafted some new emotions across the space, and the aura of menace that had been about to explode a minute ago turned into something else. Something more serene …and erotic.

Like air hissing out of a balloon, Barrons released a sound as his hard, tense body relaxed. Whatever those wings were pushing, it affected him too, whether he wanted it to or not. He relaxed in spite of himself.

The purplish white light pulsed along with the sounds of silk. It made me feel warm and loved and content, the complete opposite of the tension that had them into a stare-down moments ago. It was an awesome trick, manipulating the emotional atmosphere around him.

He took a step closer to Barrons. His white robes were sewn with gold that glittered in his purple light. His hair was long and the color of wheat. His facial features were perfectly chiseled, his skin flawless. He was gorgeous.

"Thank you, MacKayla," he said as he bowed his head.

Barrons head whipped around to me. I shrugged. I couldn't help it. He was gorgeous and I couldn't stop him from reading my mind either.

"I'm giving you three days, Barrons. MacKayla. If you can master the gift of _kefitzat haderech_,

you may keep the amulet. It is possible, you know. A Fae prince unraveled the magic's secret over an eon ago. So you see, it can be done."

That's right. I'd already done it, once. Barrons glanced back at me, looking like he wanted to throttle me. _Watch your thoughts_ came through in one quick unspoken conversation.

White wings turned toward me and his eyes narrowed as he looked past Barrons at me. "You've used it?"

Barrons put out an arm, protecting me. "Stay out of her head."

"Is it true? You've used it? Show me and I'll leave."

I exchanged a glance with Barrons, who still scowled at me. "I can't. Show you. Are you going to tell us who you are?"

Mystery man laughed, his wings catching the air to make a sound like songbirds. Barrons didn't look amused by the laughter, not one bit. He was growing impatient and his hand curled around my arm, tugging me toward him.

"I thought it was obvious, MacKayla. I am Cassiel, ruler of Saturn and Saturday." He gave me another little bow, and his wings opened back up as if they were programmed to do so whenever he said his name. His light brightened as he hovered above the ground. Show off. Once again, a sense of peace and calm came over me, and he was causing it. Cassiel.

"Stop that," Barrons snapped. "The amulet is ours. If you want it, you're going to have to take it from me."

"Stop what? Spreading serenity? I think not."

I pulled away from Barrons, but still clutched my spear. Cassiel waited, his face calm, his presence continuing to sooth. "If the amulet is yours, how did it get to be in St. Senan's grave?"

"It was hidden there decades ago by loyal servants."

"Why didn't you just get it yourself?"

"It was safe, and there was no reason to retrieve it. But with the condition of things now that the walls have fallen, the gift of _kefitzat haderech _could be used for purposes it was not intended, and I cannot let that happen. I'm only making the three day offer out of the goodness of my heart and my duty as a leader of my kind."

"Right." I'd heard that before, more times than I could count from all the people who lied to me about the book and why they wanted it.

"And who was the Fae prince that figured it out? I've never heard that story."

Cassiel smiled and when he spoke, his voice had its own calming aura this time, like the scent of a field of flowers. "You were listening. I'm afraid I can't give you that advantage. I suppose you could research it. Your choice. I've said all there is to say. Three days." His form started to fade. "Good luck Mackayla.

He was gone.

Barrons scanned around us. "Do you still have it?"

I opened my palm. It was still there, feeling dead, wiped out, empty. "I have it. Do you have the box?"

"In my pocket. Let's go." His hand tightened around my arm as he led me toward the car, moving just a bit too fast. I had to run to keep up with him. I guess that serenity spell dissipated when white wings vanished because Barrons was far from calm by the time we got in the car.

"Here." He pushed the box at me, and I put the amulet into it.

"What?" I asked him. He'd been so quiet through most of the meet and greet with Cassiel, I didn't know exactly which of the many things he could be stewing about were actually bothering him.

"What do you mean, what?"

He crawled behind the wheel and started up the Jaguar. Damn, it sounded good. The purr of the engine somehow felt like it was grounding me. I needed that right at this very second, because I really didn't want to get into some power struggle with some white-winged ruler of Saturn and Saturday.

"You're acting all pissy. We've got three days to figure it out. We've got this. I've done it once. I'll do it again."

"So sure of yourself, are you? You couldn't do it earlier."

"No, but I'm going to figure it out. _We're_ going to figure it out. Why don't you tell me about your wager with Ryodan?"

"He bet you couldn't find the amulet. I said you could. Winner gets the car."

"The Jag? Nice. Well, technically, I did find it. We show it to Ryodan and collect our winnings and are done. Then let's say it gets lost again. It wouldn't be our problem, right?"

"Wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Ryodan won't buy it."

"That's his problem, isn't it? Or we could give him the amulet and let Cassiel take it from Ryodan, and you keep the car."

"Possibility. What do you want, the car or the amulet?"

"Both, of course."

"Good. Because I'm not giving up the car, or the amulet, or you."

"Me?"

"I didn't like how he looked at you. How he connected to you, read your thoughts."

"I didn't let him do it. He just did it."

"I know. But I don't like him. "

"Maybe we should try to figure out how to make the amulet work again, and then we'll decide what to do about the car, okay?"

"I'll stall Ryodan a few more days, but that means we can't ask him to let us see his book for information on Cassiel. We're keeping the car as long as we can." He threw me a sideways glance as he drove back to the bookstore, a smile creasing his lips for the first time since we'd left.

"I want to know more about the Fae that figured out the magic. There has to be some clue there since Cassiel clammed up quick when I brought it up."

We were a few blocks from the bookstore when he said it, his voice tentative and questioning. "I agree. I have an idea where we can look, too. Not sure if you'd want to go there again though."

"Where would that be?"

"The White Mansion."


	9. Chapter 9

The characters belong to Karen Marie Moning. I'm just playing with them.

As always, big hugs to my beta reader, BonTempsCutie! Stay tuned for some exciting news at the end of the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

"The White Mansion? Really?"

I had mixed feelings about the White Mansion. As with all things Fae, there was that balance of good and bad. As soon as Barrons said it, something inside me pinged to life and the pull to go back filled my belly.

Memories of Christian MacKeltar filled my head, memories I didn't want to deal with. Not just the images of him stuck in the Unseelie King's bedroom, or feeding him Unseelie, but the things he had told me and the changes I'd seen with my own eyes.

He blamed me, and the anger he carried around with him scared me. Everything about him was different. I could hardly remember the gorgeous student from Trinity. I pulled in a deep breath and let it out, turning back to Barrons. He waited for me, knowing I was working through something, and probably guessing what it was, too.

His eyes caught mine before I could turn away and he reached over, his fingers brushing my cheek. His touch made my skin tingle and the smile he gave me before he turned back to the road was even better.

Going back to the White Mansion was a bad idea.

"What about the books you brought out the last time we were there?

"I've looked through them, but we should go through them again now that we know more. We need to research Cassiel, too."

"You're right, but going back to the White Mansion—I don't know. Time works differently there. What would happen then?"

He shrugged. "Cassiel might follow us there or be waiting for us when we returned. He seemed to imply he could take the amulet at any time. If that's true, why hasn't he? Why is he making us this offer?"

"I don't know, maybe he likes me."

Barrons snorted and muttered something that sound like "mine" under his breath.

"So what other options do we have?"

"There's also the abbey, and maybe other information sources around the city, like museums, smaller libraries, private collectors. Time is our real problem."

"Time and keeping the car," I corrected.

"Yes. Keeping the car. I want both, the car and the amulet. That's the winning play. Are you with me?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Of course. How do we make that happen?"

"We need to keep experimenting. Cassiel seemed surprised you did it once, so he knows there's a chance you can figure it out how to use it. He also kept calling it the gift of _kefitzat haderech_. Very specific and he said it twice. We'll split our time between trying to make it work and experimenting and researching the amulet and Cassiel."

"Hey, why did you call him Old Man? He didn't look old to me."

"Still going by appearances, Miss Lane? Cassiel's supposed to be an archangel. I doubt he's twenty three."

I was about to ask him what he knew about archangels when something in his voice stopped

me. "You sound a little jealous, Jericho."

"Not jealous, Mac. Possessive. There's a difference."

There was no time for a comeback. He blew right past the bookstore and drove a few more blocks before he turned down an alley. A tiny remote control appeared in his hand, which he pointed at a dilapidated warehouse directly in front of us. A façade made from rotting wood and broken windows slid open just wide enough for us to pass through.

Inside the empty warehouse, Barrons stopped the car in the center of a large rectangle painted on the floor. He pressed the remote again. With a lurch, the concrete slab dropped slowly to another level.

"What's this?"

"You'll see," he said, a tiny smile forming on his lips.

Low-level lighting turned on automatically as we descended, revealing a huge garage that extended beyond the footprint of the warehouse above. A huge garage filled with mint condition cars. I could barely wait for the platform to dock before I jumped out of the car.

"Oh." I twirled around. Lots and lots of cars.

Sports cars. Muscle cars. Classic Cars. Multiple Cargasm.

I walked to the end of the row, fondling each one. I stopped to admire a cherry red mustang, when Barrons caught me from behind, pressing against me in a way that made me forget about cars.

"Control yourself, Miss Lane," he whispered in my ear, followed by a leisurely taste of my throat. He wasn't being subtle about what he was pressing into my petunia either, and it felt good.

"What is this place?"

"What it looks like."

"And all these cars are yours?

"In a manner of speaking. They're in my garage, so that makes them mine."

"Are we hiding the Jag here? Is that what you're thinking, Barrons? What are we doing here?"

"Ryodan wants the Jag back. If I return it, it's as good as gone. He's going to want evidence, and there's no way I'm giving him the amulet. The only way we keep the amulet is if we can make good on Cassiel's offer. He's been eying up that Bugatti Veyron over there." He pointed to a sleek, black sports car in front of us. "I'm going to distract him from the Jag with the Veyron."

"But you'll lose the Bugatti!" I fondled one of the fastest street cars around, and Barrons' Bugatti was in pristine condition. Even in the dimly lit garage, I could see the shine of the black paint.

"The Veyron is easier to replace than the Jag. _We_ are keeping the Jag."

A good shiver ran through me. I loved that he said "we". "What's your plan?"

"I'm going to drop you off at the bookstore and then go to Chester's with the Veyron. You stay with the amulet. Ryodan doesn't need to know we have it. I'lI tell him we're close and give him the Veyron as collateral."

I looked at the black beauty and shook my head, letting my acceptance out with a sigh. "Okay. I'll start looking for info on Cassiel. I'm not going to attempt to make this work without you." I patted the box in my pocket.

Barrons spun me around and kissed me hard. "Let's get this done, then. We have other things to do."

The drive from the secret garage to the bookstore was much too short to enjoy that car. Barrons pulled up in front. The car handled like a dream and I wanted to drive it. Hell, I wanted to drive every single car in that garage of his. I got lost in that fantasy until I heard Barrons calling my name, and I caressed the fine leather interior one last time as I got out of the car.

His mouth came down on mine as soon as we got to the door. A flashback of V'lane kissing me on this spot had me pulling away to catch my breath. His mouth tasted my neck again, alternating between nips and tastes with sweet, soft kisses. By the time he reached my ear, my body pressed against his and my hands took hold of his jacket and pulled him close. Puffs of his breath cooled where he'd just kissed me as he whispered in my ear. "Every time I bring you home, I'm going to kiss you at this door until you don't think about anyone else but me."

He was so good at reading my reactions; he probably guessed I was thinking of V'lane. Or was it Cruce. One and the same. I pushed those thoughts away and moved my hand into his hair. Gripping tightly, I brought him close and kissed him back like I did in that basement months ago. A low growl was my reward as he pulled away.

His fingers brushed a stray piece of hair from my face. "Go inside and stay there. Don't come out until day break, but I'd prefer you stay inside until I return."

He wouldn't put restrictions on me without a good reason. I felt a twinge of anxiety, but I didn't question him. Besides, I had research to do. "I'll be safe. I promise."

"I'll be back soon."

He gave me a quick kiss and waited for me to lock up. I watched the taillights of the Veyron head toward Chester's.

###

I woke with a start, my teeth chattering. Grabbing the blanket on the back of the sofa, I wrapped it around me. I'd fallen asleep looking through Barrons books for information about our new friend, the archangel.

Something had woken me. I flicked on the outside lights, but didn't see anything around the front of the store. The only place to see what might be going on around back was up in my old room. From there I could get a bird's eye view of the street below. I climbed the stairs.

I kept the light off in my room so I could see. I looked down at the alley. Parked between the bookstore and the portal to the White Mansion, the Bugatti looked untouched. Was Barrons back? Was that what I heard? But in spite of seeing the car, my gut felt hollow, and my heart pounded. Something didn't seem right. I scanned a wider area. Two bodies in a snow bank not far from the car. Blood staining the snow red all around them. My breath stopped. Ryodan and Barrons. When did it snow? What had happened to them? From the blood and condition of their bodies, they were clearly dead. For the moment, at least.

Movement on the building next to the garage caught my eye. I followed what looked like a bloody rope up to the roof. I wasn't sure what I was seeing, except that it was hideous. Was that thing even an Unseelie? It appeared to be knitting something with its appendages. I looked more closely. Vomit rose in the throat.

I looked back to Barrons. Even knowing his secret, my heart hurt to see him there on the ground.

That thing on the roof must have gotten the jump on them. How could it do that? Whatever it was, it was dangerous. I shivered, wondering if it could see me inside the building, but it looked like it was too busy with its macabre knitting to care, at least for the moment. Another movement jarred me, a small someone walking toward Ryodan, a sword gleaming in the night.

_Dani_. My hands pressed the glass. That despicable thing was still on the roof and I didn't dare call attention to myself. I wanted to smack the window and yell to Dani to get out of there. We still had things to resolve between us but that didn't mean I wanted whatever that thing was to get her. Then Christian MacKeltar stepped out of the shadows, grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

That thing wrapped up its disgusting dress and took off after them.

What the hell had I just seen? The creature must have ambushed Barrons and Ryodan as soon as they got out of the car. Their bodies weren't far from it. What did Dani and Christian have to do with it?

I looked back at Barrons. The temptation to stand watch over his body and learn what happened each time he died burned in my gut. To know something he would never, ever, tell me. What would happen if I watched? Would he just poof out of there? Would his men kill me for knowing?

Theories about what happened and feelings about seeing him like that whirled around inside me and I took a deep breath. Grabbing a blanket and pillow from the bed, I took one last look at Jericho Barrons' body in the snow. It was just a silly gesture, but I kissed my fingers and touched them to the glass. I felt his loss—an emptiness inside me that wouldn't be filled until he returned. I reminded myself that we had work to do, and he'd be back. I went downstairs and waited for morning.

There was only one answer to the question about knowing too much.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Did you know that BonTempsCutie and I are working on an original paranormal novel? We'll be kicking off a website soon to post snippets as we write, so I hope you'll join us when we have the website up and running. We'll keep you posted on our progress and in the meantime, if you are interested in book reviews, you can also catch us on our book blog, redhotbluereads . blogspot . com


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